The sculpting is going well. I’m excited about the coming projects, the coming plans. Most of my creative free time is spent within this world: working on sculptures, working on concepts, watching the Stan Winston videos, taking notes, rolling over pieces in my mind and imagining how I might approach solutions. I’m in the creative envelope, where it is living with me moment to moment, and I couldn’t be happier. This is a place that I’ve longed to be for a long time.
But I haven’t made time for writing, and I’m supposed to be writing. I’m supposed to be digging into things, working through issues, facing the past, facing aspects of who I am. I haven’t been doing so great at this part. I mean, I have profound, momentary insights, and instead of jotting them down to explore further, or to bring up in counseling, I’ve let them glide away. It’s emotional laziness. Or maybe it’s fear? No, it’s laziness. It’s easier to turn away from the hard work, to let things remain however they are.
Lately my emotional life has been harder. It’s the weather, it’s work and the workload, it’s January and all of the snow and ice we recently had. The gray skies, and now all of the rain and the mud. And I’ve been irritated and short of temper and have had some days where I felt worn through. Fuck January! It always feels like a bottomless pit.
I’ll be 49 this year. What does that leave me? We started working with a financial planner today, getting our financial house in order. Part of this process is trying to define our goals, our wants, our wishes. When do I wish to retire? 60 would be fabulous, but likely a pipe dream. 65 then...when medicare kicks in. Who knows? Travel, life expenses, home maintenance, a new home maybe? How much does this dream life cost? Where does all of the money come from? Are you going to have the money? It’s all sobering.
How much time? Of course we don’t know, but if we’re looking at the stats, what does they say? What does all the life insurance research say about the longevity of an American male with a heart condition? Do I get to imagine a retirement that lasts 20 years? Probably not. This is sobering. So much of American life is a waste. Energy and effort and sacrifice for crumbs, to line someone’s pockets. It’s a scam.
See? It’s January